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#I can’t possibly tag every character but I think I didn’t miss any game at least
malice-kingdom · 3 months
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tales of 🌈
___
74 characters later.... I thought it would be nice to have all of them in the same post :D
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cynettic · 3 years
Note
Hey so I just read the Laser Tag AU and maaaan, now I really want to play Splatoon smh aksksjjdjs
Anywayyy my point is: may I request more hcs but with the other boyos (Childe, Albedo, Bennett, Razor, Chongyun, Xingqiu and maybe Aether if you do him too xD)
Laser Tag ( genshin x reader )
Summary - Genshin characters playing laser tag with you their s/o.
Pairings - Reader x Childe/Bennett/Razor/Chongyun/Albedo/Scaramouche
Warnings - Mention of guns and shooting.
A/N - Added in Scaramouche- But I couldn’t think of anything for Xingqiu. I can surprisingly see the majority of the Genshin boys being good at wielding guns, even though they’d probably suck lol
Laser Tag
Childe
Childe is a beast.
Whether it’s in the terrain of his battlefield, or the streets of Liyue playing laser tag, Childe plays to win. He’s always been the competitive type, enjoying the thrill of battle, or in this case, laser tag.
He loves the game.
And of course, you just have to end up on the opposite team as him.
This game is the perfect setup for an enemies to lovers kind of vibe btw. With him shooting at your comrades and eliminating them from left to right, and you doing the same for his team. Very few people stand against him in this game, and his accuracy and sense of battle.
The two of you will spend the entirety of the game playing cat and mouse. Childe chasing after you while you simply escape his sights every time, taking down his teammates while you’re at it.
Childe isn’t as interested in winning, and once you prove to be worthy of a decent laser tag battle, he tries his best to force you to confront him.
Of course you on the other hand take his reckless behaviour to your advantage to turn the game in your favour and strike down his team. You know it’ll piss him off later when you win.
However, it Childe does manage to catch you…
The two of you will fight, that much is obvious. Dodging and attacking him, he will get very into it. Maybe a little too much, but you don’t give in, not until the very end.
Not until he’s on top of you, the two of you toppled over a bunch of hay that cushions your fall when he crashes into you. Not until he’s holding the plastic revolver against your temple, staring straight into your eyes with his signature smirk.
He might sneak a little kiss in there just to throw you off.
But in the end he will make sure he wins, or rather, he eliminates you. He doesn’t care if he doesn’t win the entirety of the game, taking you down was satisfactory enough, and he feels well accomplished and content after.
Would definitely rub it in your face.
If you brush it off as something you didn’t really try in, be prepared to be pinned against the wall and kissed until you admit that you were in fact, doing your best. And yes, he won fair and square.
Bennett
Omg this precious boy-
Bennett will try his hardest, stick by your side and shoot at any approaching target. Considering that the two of you are on the same team, he will promise to protect you.
With one problem.
No matter how well he aims, whether it is going to hit his target or not, the lazer disagrees. Rather, his terrible luck absolutely ruins it and somehow his lazer point ends up somewhere completely else.
“It changed its direction completely!”
Well… you never know, maybe it’s the gun that sends the lazers ray so far off, but considering it’s Bennett, you know it’s no coincidence.
So you end up protecting him.
Dragging him from place to place and shooting down your opponents, the two of you spend your time tripping over random large ass rocks ( with only Bennett’s terrible luck to blame ) and attacking opponents.
You make sure that Bennett is not shot, no matter what. And you give everyone else a terrible glare that basically screams that if they shoot him, they’ll face your wrath.
Nobody shoots Bennett.
By the end of the game, he’ll be grinning ear to ear. And even if he didn’t manage to eliminate anyone, he’ll boast about how his amazing dodging skills pulled him through the game. You’ll agree, lacing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to the good Hunter to get a good meal.
Just to buy one though, the poor boy can’t cook for his life.
Razor
“Razor… very confused.”
The wolf boy has difficulty with the rules of the game, but the concept of pointing the gun at an opponent and shooting them with a lazer isn’t too hard to grasp.
You find out very quickly that Razor is actually pretty good with aim.
His hands don’t shake for one, and he is so adept to his surroundings that people struggle finding the source of their depleting health. Despite being overall confused at how to play, Razor easily becomes one of the main players taking opponents down.
As someone on his team, he makes sure to keep you by his side the entire time. He understands the elimination part, and he doesn’t want his lupical to get taken out, even if it’s a game.
He can be oddly affectionate at certain times, pushing your face against his chest as he takes out the remaining players in the field you both are in. He will carry you, and take no hesitation when pulling you out of the way, even if it’s a little too rough.
When the game ends, it might take a while to explain to the poor boy that your team won. And that it was a good thing.
Razor will begin to smile when he notices how content you are with it.
Chongyun
This man has the audacity to wield a gun while licking his ‘popsicle.’
Like goddamnit Chongyun, being good at shooting is already a flex, you don’t have to nibble at your popsicle while you’re at it.
You can’t really blame him though, it’s hot outside, and with the sun beaming down on the poor boy's head you know he can’t stand it. Especially with all the adrenaline and yells from opposing teams.
As someone on the same team as him, you take on the job of Chongyun’s personal popsicle restocker, and shooting anyone down once he gets tired. As good as the boy is at shooting, he sucks at keeping himself unknown to the other players.
So you take on the job to make sure they don’t shoot him down.
The two of you are a good team, and if it gets too hot, Chongyun might even let you have one of his popsicles. Of course you don’t have his talent of being able to shoot while having a popsicle in your mouth-
Your team will end up losing though, and even though Chongyun isn’t bothered, he will be slightly worried if you care. The two of you were obviously trying your best, and as long as you both had fun that’s all that matters to him.
But if it really bothers you that much…
He knows you feel comforted by physical contact, so he’ll hold your hand and offer a comforting smile. Tell you that you played well, and that he had fun.
That cheers you up right away.
Kiss him on the cheek please, even though he will flinch at the contact, his cheeks are flushed red and he won’t admit it. But he likes it.
Albedo
Why is it so easy to picture Albedo as a hot sexy stoic mafioso wielding a gun?
Anyways, Albedo is terribly good at wielding a gun. So good at that he only holds the plastic revolver with one hand, never missing a shot as he walks down the streets of Monstadt.
He knows the area well, so good luck trying to sneak up on him. The way his eyes so carelessly sweep the buildings, it hardly looks like he’s trying. Eliminating players with his lasers as he mindlessly strides past the fountain.
Of course, you’re against him.
Albedo isn’t really motivated to play, he’d rather be in his lab experimenting or recording down his discoveries. But he was dragged into this mess, he might as well play his part and support his team.
Albedo won’t hesitate to shoot at you and take you down.
As much as you may be important to you, he plays this game fair and square. He will take you down, or rather, he will try, because you get creative :)
He knows Monstadt well, but he can’t possibly keep his eye on all angles around him. So you’ll aim for his blind spots, throw yourself at him and tackle him to the ground. Simply eliminating him isnt satisfying enough, you need more.
So you turn this into a little game to fluster him.
Tackle him and pin him down, watch him scramble for the gun and then give him a peck on the lips. Watch as his grip loosens, and one of his hands instinctively come to nestle against your hair to pull you closer, and then you pull away.
Watching his idle confusement turn into a light blush on his cheeks is just too good, and how he grows even redder when you start laughing is even better.
Of course his team wins, not that he cares.
The minute the game ends he’s back in his office, conducting experiments. You can go interrupt him though, sneak into his office and press a kiss against his neck. He doesn’t often react or do much to it, but after your linger kiss at the game, he will pull you close and sit you on his lap. Have a proper make out session after you left him hanging with that peck earlier ;)
Scaramouche
This little man is ‘terrifying’.
It’s scary enough that whether you’re against him or on the same team as him, you keep your distance.
“Are you avoiding me Y/n?”
You play on the same team, and even if he’s your boyfriend, you know better than to stay too close when it comes to battle. He shows his cruelty, and you really weren’t looking forward to be put in the middle of that.
‘Unfortunately you didn’t have a choice-‘
Scaramouche will literally drag you, a hand looped around your waist to tug you to his side and take you along with him as he takes down opponents after opponents. He doesn’t ask for your praise, but you still give him it knowing he appreciates it. Mentally.
When he’s tired or bored, he will lean his head on your shoulder, wait there for a bit before jumping back up and shooting a random straggler on the sides. Heavens knows how the boy knows he was there, it’s like he has some sixth sense.
We don’t even want to get into his accuracy and precision, Scaramouche is born a mafioso.
At the end when your team wins, no surprise, give him a hug. Tell him he did well and even if he tries to push away, hold him tight. Even though he could easily pull your arms away if he wanted to, he’ll just pretend to give a little struggle and then give in to your warmth.
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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years
Text
Happy Little Accidents
Part Two: Hope
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 2,317
Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??
Request: Yes
Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.
A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.
Ko-Fi
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(Not My GIF)
***
Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.
On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.
But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.
However.
You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.
So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.
And there was so much work that had to be done.
Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.
It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.
Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.
You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.
The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.
Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.
You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.
"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.
"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.
You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."
"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.
"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.
"It look's decorated to me?"
"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."
"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."
"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."
"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.
"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.
"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"
"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."
It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.
Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.
There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.
However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.
You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.
So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.
But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.
Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.
There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.
On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.
It was so fucking hard.
Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.
But still, the process continued.
"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.
"Oh, we know."
"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.
"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."
Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."
"Well, goodbye then."
You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.
"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.
You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.
"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."
That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.
***
Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.
If you thought you were bad.
Natasha was far worse.
She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.
You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.
And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.
No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.
It all seemed so foreign now.
Like a past life.
'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.
A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.
Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.
"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.
Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.
"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."
"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."
Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.
"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."
Then they walked away.
With you calling after them.
"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"
Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.
"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.
"Hey. How have you two been?"
"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.
"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"
"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."
The care worker laughed at that.
"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."
Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.
And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.
You adored your little family.
You just wished you could have them all home.
'One day', you thought, 'one day'.
Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.
Just like the last time.
And the time before that.
And the time before that.
And the one before that.
It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.
Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.
"I know, my little love, I know-"
"Mommy!" Hope cried.
"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."
"Mommy!"
"I know."
Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.
"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."
"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."
"But it almost seems endless, Nat."
"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."
"I hope you're right."
***
She was right.
Of course, she was right.
She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.
It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.
But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.
Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.
Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.
You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.
She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.
"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.
"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."
"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."
You gave an overdramatic gasp.
"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"
Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.
"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."
"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.
She was already taking after you.
Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.
She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.
It had been a long time since then.
And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.
***
Permanent Tag List: 
@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,
SFW Tag list: 
@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,
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cuddlesslut · 3 years
Text
Memories
Part three to Home
Suna x fem reader
Atsumu x fem reader
Tags: still angst, light fluff, just a lot of Suna simping.
AN// let me know if you want me to continue the story.
Part Two: Silence
Part Four: Chance Encounters
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You were the most beautiful girl Suna had ever seen. When he saw you that first day of school it was like the clouds in his normally dreary day parted and he could feel the sun. You weren’t in the same class much to his dismay. That didn’t stop the middle blocker from searching for your face in the crowds of the halls or the cafeteria. Though it was rare he stilled catch some glimpses. In those moments a war waged in his mind part of him wanted to go introduce himself, he wanted to know your name. To just be around you. But another side of his brain forbid that. Stating that he was fine were he was he would just interrupt your day. What would he even say to you. Hi I’m Suna I’ve been watching you since the first and even though I know next to nothing about you I can’t get you out of my head..... yeah no. He’d just sit back and wait for opportunity to knock. Suna curses himself for his laziness. He can’t describe how his heart stop the day his friend brought you to practice and introduce you as his girlfriend.
Though he kept his composure he felt as though the air was stolen from his lungs. This is the closesest he had ever to been to you and it was overwhelming to say the least. You stood there at Atsumu’s side smiling and greeting the team memebers and when your attention drew to Suna he realized his favorite thing about you was your eyes. You beautiful (e/c) eyes shown with so much light and happiness. When you smiled you smiled with your eyes, always getting this cute little crinkle. He shook his head at these feelings. You were taken and by one of his friends no less.
From that moment on you presence was always close by joining the boys for lunch or stopping by practice with little snacks you had made the team. Suna almost resents how easy he gets along with you. How simple it is to fall into a banter with you. He hates how calming it is when you’d sit next to him and laugh as you showed him some meme. He wanted to be annoyed with you ever time you’d put your foot down and insist he let you wrap his finger after a bad block. But he couldn’t you were just such a caring person. He’d try and give you some petty insults, maybe if he caused a rift between the two of you he’d feel better, maybe then if there was more space between you he’d feel less guilty for always being enraptured by you. But you’d always snap back with something just as clever or petty. You could go toe to toe in trading insults but both of you knew neither of you meant it. You’d always break out into that breathtaking smile after a few rounds of back and forth. He realized soon that he’d much rather keep you in his life as a friend even if he could never have you because at least he’d still see that smile. At least as your best friend he’d still see your eyes shine bright and he could take a small pleasure in knowing he brought some of that happiness.
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“You need to calm down,” Suna turned to see Osamu taking the seat on the bench next to him.
Suna's hands run through his hair gripping the roots in frustration as he let out a yell.
“How the fuck am I supposed to be calm, she could be hurt or missing, and that ass is just sitting there! Two weeks! Lord knows what could have happened by now.” Hes shaking part of him wants to go back up and give Atsumu a few more licks but he knows no good will come from it.
“YN is a grown woman and she’s smart and strong and you know damn well she’d bitch you out right now for thinking she couldn’t handle herself,” the former ace chuckled.
“I’d much rather her here bitching cause at least then she’d be here,” he groaned rubbing his hand down his legs trying to let out some of his nerves. “Did you know?” He asked the grey haired twin.
Samu gave his quick glare of offense. “Absolutely not believe me if I’d known I would have been the one to deck him , you just beat me to it.”
“The last i heard from her was her birthday, maybe if I’d had stopped by and brought the Onigiri myself I could have been there for her,” he sighs.
“We’ll find her don’t worry,” his friend pats his back, “and then you can finally confess,”he smiles.
“I’m that obvious huh,” he sighed.
Samu let a loud laugh “ OH PLEASE we all knew, well maybe not YN she can be kinda blind ya’know,”
Suna shook his head laughing. He has to see you.
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They returned home today from nationals. The loss to Karasuno was really starting to sink in now that was Suna was home sitting in his room alone the house quiet. He laid there berating himself for balls he failed to block. If I had just done better maybe my team would still be playing. Maybe - he was disrupted from his thoughts by the chime of the door bell. His parents were out of town this weekend. They had assumed like many Inarizaki would still be out in Tokyo fighting for first place. It was fine though Suna was used to being alone. But that just confused him more as he made his way to the door. Who could possibly be here. All he can say is he’d never except to open the door and see you standing there. Like always you stole his breath away.
“What yer not gunna let me in,” you teased “and to think I brought you snacks!” He just realized now she was carrying a grocery bag that looked pretty heavy.
“Give me that ya Dummy,” he said taking away the snacks, he stepped to the side allowing her entry.
“I figured you were hungry, but try to save me some,” she giggled. Suna just rolled his eyes as she took a seat on his couch.
“What are you doing here?” He questioned taking his seat beside her making sure to leave a respectable distance. Though he wants nothing more than to hold you close. He dismisses the thought as he rummages threw the goodies waiting for your response. He smiles seeing the package of milk bread you bought. He took it out and tossed it to you knowing it was your favorite. You smile and give a slight nod as a thank you.
“I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone after the game, I know your probably thinking a whole bunch of nonsense right now aren’t ya?” She looked at him with a solem but knowing look. He cursed how well you knew him. Seeing as he had been doing just that before your arrival. His heart squeezed at the thought of you wanting to comfort him. It almost gives him a slight hope. What about Atsumu, he lost that game too.
“Why aren’t you with you boyfriend, he’s probably taking it harder than me,” he asks knowing he might ruin this little fantasy he has here with you. He sees a sad look cross your face at the mention of the setter. It’s not a look Suna wants to keep seeing.
“You’re right about that, Tsmu’s having a tough go of it,” she gave a soft smile. “But he said he didn’t want my pity and asked I leave,” Suna could see your eyes get a little glassy thinking back to the conversation.
“He’s an Ass.” The middle blocker states plainly.
“He’s just got a lot of emotions right now and wants his space, it’s okay.” But Suna can see your hurt. He knows it wont do any good to keep talking about it.
“His loss, now I get all of the snacks,” pulling out a bag of chips. “Want to watch a movie?”
That’s how the evening went the both of you curled up on the couch Suna had brought down some pillows and blankets and he wouldn’t lie he loved seeing you wrapped in his comforter. You went on and on about this anime you started and you nearly died when he agreed to let you show it to him, pumping your fist in the air going off about your favorite character and how he’s totally going to love him. Suna looks over at you and your wearing the biggest smile eyes wide with joy. This is will always be his favorite moment he thinks.
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He’s right that moment still sticks out in his mind. He has plenty of great memories but that one right there is his favorite. He’s been thinking back on a lot of his memories of you lately.
It’s been seven months since your birthday and no one in your former circle new anything about where you were. You hadn’t talked to anyone. Your number was no longer in service and all of you socials have gone silent.
After a couple of days of looking for you Suna was ready to go to the Police and report you missing, ready to call every hospital and pray you are safe. At this point that’s all that matters to him. He can’t bare to think about anything bad happening to you but it’s hard to keep his mind out of the dark place. Osamu was the one to stop him. Luckily they had gotten in touch with their former captain and while Kita was sorry to hear about the situation and very disappointed in his junior for his actions. Every one was upset with Atsumu for his actions. Kita was gladly willing to help in the search. Still being in their home town he was able to pay your parents a quick visit. And while he was happy he could inform them both that your parents had heard from you the other day so your fine. That was all your parents could tell him, stating that you had requested to keep your privacy not wanting to talk to anyone. So while they knew the biggest detail they still knew nothing.
It hurt Suna the most. How could you just cut him off like that. You were the most important person to him how could you not know that. He fretted. He knows your hurting but why did you have to cut all of them off most importantly him. Part of him was so incredibly angry how could you not even say goodbye to him. Did his friendship really mean that little to you. But another part of him understood that he couldn’t possibly know what you are going through. All he knew is how much he missed your smiling eyes. He would give everything to see you again.
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abumbledbee · 3 years
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Fundy’s reaction to Michael
If you missed it, yesterday during stream Fundy and Philza were introduced to Michael, Tubbo and Ranboo’s adopted son. If you haven’t been following Tubbo and Ranboo’s storylines, they recently canonized their marriage and have decided to take the zombie pigman baby they found on Ranboo’s first day on the server as their child.
This stream I will argue is canon. Their interactions tiptoe the line of bits and canon at times, but the hostility Phil shows towards Fundy is very much canon, as well as a few other moments can’t be considered anything other than canon because of their importance. Though it was never confirmed, I’ll be writing this analysis taking their streams as in character moments.
Fundy begins their interaction by sneaking onto the snowy commune Phil, Techno, and Ranboo reside at, with a plan to build a dirt shack to live in as a “prank”. He says at the start of his stream that he wants to slowly build up a full house in the commune secretly over multiple streams. Ranboo spots him instantly and once cornered Phil immediately gets angry. He says Fundy’s lucky he didn’t kill him on sight for his part in the Butcher Army, and it’s clear their relationship despite blood ties is fully negative on Phil’s side. Fundy is quick to say it was because of peer pressure and points out Ranboo was also part of it, but Phil says he’s forgiven Ranboo because his memory problems make him easily manipulated.
Tubbo crashes the party and non-canonically kills Fundy. They all tease Fundy and play a game for him to get his stuff back, which ultimately ends up with Fundy getting everything back and Ranboo extending an invite to Phil to meet Michael. Fundy tags along despite not being invited, and Tubbo and Ranboo have a heated discussion over whether they want to let Fundy meet Michael or not. They tell Fundy and Phil both that they got married and Michael is their son, and Fundy immediately loses interest and says he doesn’t want to go but ends up following anyways.
On the way there Tubbo mentions how Phil would technically be Michael’s grandfather since Phil is his ‘unbiological father’ (per tubbo’s wording) and they jokingly say Michael will be his only and favorite grandchild. Fundy laughs it off and keeps reminding Phil that he has a grandkid already, himself. Phil ignores him and tells Tubbo Michael likely will be his favorite, because his other betrays him every second he gets. They pause on their travels and Phil tells Fundy that he has a LOT of redeeming to do before Phil will consider them related again. It’s clear he is holding a lot of anger still about the Butcher Army, and he’s directing most of it at Fundy.
Tubbo asks why he isn’t getting the same treatment and Phil tells Tubbo “Don’t make me start, I’ll deal with you later.” It’s clear that Phil is treating Tubbo better despite Techno’s harsher feelings towards Tubbo (government-related hostility) over Fundy, and I think it has a lot to do with their family ties. Phil is technically closer to Tubbo relationship-wise than Fundy despite being biologically related to Fundy, and I think it gives Tubbo an edge, even if Phil doesn’t mean to. Having had a part in raising Tubbo, even reluctantly, still means he’s given favoritism. The way he spoke to both of them felt like he was telling Fundy he has to find his own way to redeem himself, but Tubbo he’s willing to try and talk to without negative feelings taking over. I also wouldn’t question for a second that Ranboo’s relationship with Tubbo makes a big difference too, as we’ve seen Phil literally call himself a Ranboo apologist earlier in the stream and it’s clear he cares for him a lot. 
They arrive to Snowchester and are introduced to Michael, who is upstairs in the nursery Tubbo and Ranboo built for him earlier on Tubbo’s stream. It is incredibly clear how attached they are to him from the start, both from how they speak to him to how lovingly decorated his room is, including 3 family portraits of all three of them together. They introduce Phil to Michael as his grandfather, and Fundy as his cousin. 
Fundy along with Phil are both a bit speechless at the start, which is to be expected as they weren’t aware Michael is a zombie pigman baby. Fundy asks where they found him, and starts questioning their parenting almost immediately. He asks why Michael can’t go outside and tries to open the windows. Him and Phil both begin to question their parenting methods, scrutinizing everything they can.
Tubbo warns Fundy if he opens a window again he will kill him, and Ranboo in retort to Fundy’s criticism asks him to remind them all of what experience he has with parents. I think it’s super interesting that Ranboo was the one to say that, as he’s usually not someone who openly confronts others. It’s a great reminder both of the tension he still has with Fundy, and how emotionally attached Ranboo is to Michael. Phil makes a joke about Michael being patient zero for covid and Fundy laughs and continues it, and Tubbo kills him again for insulting their kid. Fundy tells him if he comes back and any of his stuff is missing, he will hurt Michael. Phil takes some of his armor and purposely waits to see what Fundy does, but luckily Fundy realizes and doesn’t hurt him.
They leave on a mostly positive note, except Phil accidentally kills Ghost Squeeks when a creeper he made explode trapped it under ice. On Fundy’s way out he also accidentally sets off a creeper and Phil makes an offhand comment that “It runs in the family” and Fundy is overjoyed to hear Phil refer to him as family.  He then runs off to the snow commune again and starts working on his shack.
Fundy’s constant badgering of Tubbo and Ranboo’s parenting was a really odd thing I hadn’t expected from him, considering he isn’t a parent himself. I can understand Phil doing it, but Fundy was actually the first to start questioning them, and even went as far as to threaten Michael. Later when he finds a zombie jockey and his chat suggests he be a playmate for Michael, he says no because he hates Michael. A part of me wonders if this isn’t an underlying jealousy that Fundy himself might not even recognize. It was almost like seeing a happy, and so far very functional, family ticked him off and he immediately started trying to find flaws in their parenting. Like he needed proof that they weren’t as good as they seemed. It felt like he wasn’t handling the idea that there could be a child on this server that wouldn’t have parents that choose raising a nation over a child, that there could be a child who’s surrounded by proof of love at all times. It makes his building of the dirt home by Phil’s base all the more sad. In my opinion, Fundy is using this “prank home” as an excuse to be close to Phil again, his only blood relative remaining and the only source of possible affection he has left.
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kaylathekittykat225 · 3 years
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Carnival Ride of Horror // Steve Harrington x Reader
Carnival of Horror // SH
Warning/s: Cursing, laughing at inappropriate times, (very minimal) mentions/implications of abuse/stalking (just wanna warn, its super small but just in case!)
Word Count: 3.5k
Hey guys! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, lemme tell you, life has been kinda crappy and its just a little less crappy now! So I decided to start pecking at the keyboard again and this is what came of it! This lovely person requsted this work and I just got around to starting to really write because I had a free week. Anywhoodles, it’s good to write something again and I hope yall enjoy it!
Again thank you for this idea @seraphiiii
omg i came across your post about writing ideas in my feed and got so excited to see both steve harrington and young justice in the tags lmao. but i think a steve harrington x reader where reader and him go to an amusement park and reader is terrified of the rides so he’s like comforting her throughout them and encouraging her but also laughing (in a good natured way obvi) about how scared she is and stuff? i think that would be so cute!!
Here’s my Masterlist.
Enjoy.
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“Stevie, when we agreed to have a date night away from the kids, I didn't think we would be going into a mass of more kids.” As he pulled the keys out, you stared at the bright light shining machinery that had been set in the middle of a field outside the city. The annual summer fair had finally made its way to Hawkins, and it had left a buzz in the air as everyone planned when they would go, talked about what rides had come this year, who their ride buddy would be; it had been all the kids had been talking about for weeks. They put a day together the coming weekend to go as a group and they planned to drag Steve and you along on the off chance that they needed an “adult” to allow them on the rides.
Funny how they assumed either Steve or you knew how to adult.
“Cause I thought it would be a nice change from us just watching movies or having dinner.”
“Oh, so dino nuggets are no longer date-worthy for you.” Steve almost took you seriously, but he saw the grin that has graced your lips at your own comment. He relaxed a little knowing that you weren’t upset with his idea for date night, but he had always wanted to kiss someone at the top of a Ferris Wheel, and he would do anything to get you to the top of the rotating ride.
“So, you’re not mad that I chose here for tonight?” You shook your head and pulled at the door handle separating the two of you from the outside life.
“Of course not Stevie, I just thought it was an interesting choice.” The smile you chose to have was one that hopefully convinced him that you were okay with where the pair of you were going, even if you weren’t happy with the choice.
You can be happy with the idea of going to a carnival as long as you don’t go on-”Cool, so what ride do you want to do first?”
“Shit.” The world slipped out before you could stop yourself as Steve finished paying for your tickets and asked what you had said. “Nothing just kicked myself. Um…” You looked around frantically for something to do that wasn’t flashing brightly and spinning faster than the legal highway speed. “Let’s go over there!”
Steve followed your hand as he saw you point towards the stands of games that were rigged and way too fricking expensive, but he would do it for you. “Alright, starting out with some games I see, I like it.”
The two of you ran through a few of the games, most of them where Steve got way too into it and you had to step between them as he tried screaming that he deserved that stuffed bear/pony/cat/fish, because he almost had it every single time. He did beat out the basketball one, one of the last ones the two of you did on that strip, bolstering his confidence just enough to get him into a cheery enough mood.
“Alright! We played some games, and let the crazies test out the rides so I’m pretty sure they won’t break down on us. Which one should we do first? They got a drop tower, or how about the pit viper swings? Or, or, or how about we…” The night had been going enjoyable up until Steve turned to the rides you had managed to distract him from and pointed at the glowing and fast-moving monsters.
“How about we do the haunted walk over there?” Steve followed your pointing finger with a quizzical look, he hadn’t really taken note of the scary attraction before, never thought to really look to it with everything else going on. “I bet it won’t even be scary to us after everything we’ve been through right ha.”
You took off with a dry laugh without waiting for a response from him; his cries were head behind you, but the haunted house looked better than anything else around you. “Y/N.” He called you again, but you walked faster. By the time you got to the stairs leading into the building, you were practically running up them to get into the dark house with smoke billowing out of it.
“Y/N!” Your name was the last thing you heard before diving through the door and physically bumping into one of the scarers dressed as a zombie. He seemed nice, breaking character enough to ask if you were okay before you had already turned the corner and left him behind too.
Twisting and turning, you didn’t pay much mind to the screaming witches, zombies, skeletons, or anything that happened all around you; over the music and screaming, you could vaguely hear your name, giving you an indication that Steve followed you.
Not too far in, you found a quieter corner with only a couple cobwebs around it where you quickly ducked back into and tried pressing yourself into it deeper, hoping to watch Steve walk right by you.
Why the hell were you running from your boyfriend? You gained a sense of logic for a second where you paused. Why were you running? This was super childish of you and really had no reason. All Steve wanted to do was go on a few rides and you were being selfish and completely ruining what was going to be one of the few evenings you didn’t have to babysit the kids.
As the guilt started to swirl with your desire to not be found, you didn’t notice as the Frankenstein in the room had taken notice of you hiding in the corner and started to tromp over to you. “Hey, miss, you can’t be hiding in here, you gotta keep moving.”
“I’ll be out in a second, sir, let me just-” “You can’t be here-” “If you give me a second, I will leave as soon as I can-” “Miss you have to leave-” “Give me one dan minute-” “Y/N!”
Among all the screaming the Frankenstein and you had been doing was your name being called by a third and new voice along with a hand clasping onto your shoulder. Looking to the hand, you saw the unmistakable outline of the man you were hiding from. “There you are babe, why were you running off.” Just looking at the Frankenstein’s demeanor, you could tell he went into defense mode suddenly.
“Were you hiding from him miss? Are you okay? Do you feel safe?” The painted man moved to step between you and Steve in an attempt to separate you two.
“Whoa, whoa buddy, back off. She’s my girlfriend, chill out.” Steve tried stepping around the man o little success.
“Oh, your girlfriend? And she’s running from you? I don’t think this is looking very good for you, buddy.” The two were shooting back and forth at each other, getting chest to chest, and starting to cause a larger disturbance that started o be heard over the music and background scream noises. More workers it looked like started to slip into the room and try to get the two men to quiet down, going so far as to begin threats of throwing them out of the haunted house.
You were pulled away from the situation before being pushed away and into the next room, looking like it was on its way to the exit in the next two or three rooms: your destination.
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“Y/N?” His voice finally chirped up next to you as Steve took a seat next to you on the grass at the edge of the carnival. “You okay?” When he saw you sitting over here, he had quickly jogged over and took her in as he did so: sitting with her face pressed into her knees and arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she kept herself in as tight of a ball as possible.
You didn’t respond at first, only moving your head to look up at your boyfriend, the person you have embarrassed tonight and most definitely pissed off with your childish antics tonight. “I’m sorry.”
“Whoa what do you have to apologize for? I’ve been worried about you and wanted to make sure that you are okay.” His hand found its way to your back and began rubbing circles into your shoulder blade.
“I was really childish today and you didn’t deserve it, all because I was scared of the stupid rides.” Your words may have been mumbles, but he heard every word clearly.
“Hold on. Babe, did you say you were scared of the rides?” Your small and timid nod was enough for him to understand. “Why didn’t you tell me? I never would have brought you here if I knew that!”
Swallowing the thick feeling in your throat, you looked up at him and saw the disappointment and hurt in his face and that hurt. “Because you were so excited about it, I thought I could get through it and do at least one or two with you. But as we got closer, I guess my nerves got the best of me and I just...ran. Like a stupid child.”
“Hey, hey, hey, no.” Steve quickly shuffled to kneel in front of you and grabbed your hands, holding them in his own and your legs fell down to where you were now criss cross apple sauce. “I’m not gonna force you to do any of these rides if you don’t wanna. If you want to just go home, we can make this a movie night if that works better for you.”
“No, Stevie,” His mouth quirked up at this name. “You already bought the tickets; I don’t want you to waste the money you earned because I’m a scaredy cat.”
Steve took a second to think, racking his brain on how to salvage what has been an eventful evening. “How about…” He paused again and just stared at you with you staring back at him, waiting to hear what he wanted to say. “You can say no, how about we try a few rides, to try and get you on some. If you don’t like riding after one, we can go home, and you can at least say you did it.”
Mulling this idea over in your head, your eyes shifted from where your boyfriend sat in front of you to the bright and joyous scream filled rides were. “I suppose they don’t all look so bad.” You murmured to him, staring particularly at the giant Ferris Wheel that turned, a small memory from early on in your relationship popping into your head. Steve had mentioned a few times that his dream date would be to take a girl up on a Ferris Wheel and cuddle her and kiss her when they got to the top.
“Okay, we can try a few.” Though shaky, your voice was a little stronger this time and you gave Steve a small smile.
“You sure?” A nod. “Okay, I’ll let you choose which one we go on, okay?” Another nod.
Together, the two of you stood to your feet and approached the hustle and bustle of the carnival grounds again. “What did that Frankenstein do to you? I hope he didn’t get you in trouble or anything.” You asked as you laced your hand with Steve while the other went to hold onto his arm, squeezing it slightly as you got closer to the machines and your stomach growing heavy again.
“Oh him, he didn’t do much, just tried scaring me when he though I was some creep chasing you.” He chuckled at the short story, glancing over to you as you took in the carnival for really the first time, looking for something that didn’t freak you out. “How about we start with those spinning pods over there? All they do is spin around and if you want it to, we can make it spin on the inside too.”
Following his finger, you saw what he was referring to as it did spin around, the four small egg things with windows in them were spinning on the main machinery but also appeared to be spinning on their own. As you got closer and apparently joined the line, you could see inside one of them a group of middle school boys cackling as they pulled on the weird center disk that kinda looked like a pizza pan. “Yeah, we can give it a try.” The shakiness in your voice had come back and your grip on Steve tightened.
“Hey, you got this I’ll be right here with ya.” He returned the squeeze to your hand and fishes through his pocket for two tickets to hand over at the entrance. “Up ya go.” He mutters as he helps you up the three stairs leading into the egg ride thing you were entering before he stepped in behind you and took his place next to you. You were already holding a death grip on the center console when the door was shut, and Steve sat next to you. “You know what this is?” He asked gesturing to the disk you were holding onto with the vice grip.
“Something for me to hold onto?” You shocked yourself with how violently your voice was shaking as you heard something start to rumble around you. “Oh, shit its moving.” Steve let a quick chuckle out before he stopped himself and tried explaining the center console would cause the pod thing to spin. “Fuck no! Don’t you dare make this thing spin.” Bloody murder was not even near definitive enough of how much you were screaming.
“Babe, babe calm down, it’s fine! I promise, ha!” In comparison to your screaming, Steve seemed to be having the time of his life as he laughed; at least he wasn’t making the ride spin. “Babe, babe, babe, I’m so sorry I’m laughing, I promise I didn’t mean to, but you were screaming so much! And it was hilarious!” Steve held onto his sides as he nearly fell out of the pod and waited for you to follow his laughing self. When you didn’t step out, he turned back around and saw you still had your hands clenched very tightly to the metal plate, your eyes wide and your lips pursed together. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about the rides, do you wanna go home?”
Hearing him soften up got you to finally look at him and slowly let go of the wheel. “N-n-no. I’m…” You paused to catch your breath and steady your voice. “I’m good, I just don’t know if I can do any more of these kinds of things.” Taking his hand, you pulled yourself up and stepped out from the ride and have yourself a few seconds to remember how to use your legs.
“You okay?” You nodded at him and gave a shaky, but okay smile. “You sure you wanna do another one? Cause we can go-”
“No, no, I can do…” The carnival really did have more rides than just ones that wanted to make you die, but none that really made you want to jump on them. “Can we do the carousel? I know I can do that one at least, my mom took me on them enough as a kid to be desensitized to those ones.” Steve looked over and saw the carousel that was filled predominately by smaller children, but if you wanted to do this and it was because he bought the tickets, he couldn’t make her do something else.
“If that’s what you wanna do, then we can do the carousel all night long, babe.” You nodded at him and followed him as he took your hand and the two began the walk to the carousel.
The carousel ride was much less curse filled, thankfully. You and Steve had found a pair of horses sitting side by side and the two of you quickly claimed them. Like you had said, you did get to enjoy this ride due to having done it before and you were able to just chat between the two of you, talking about how the kids were cute, how excited you were to take the kids to the park and not have to rides. It was a fine ride, definitely better than the last one.
“You ready to go home, babe?” Steve turned to you with a smile on his face. Getting you to ride two of the rides was honestly enough for him, plus, he knew Dustin would ride all of them with him later, with you waiting at the end for him.
You were about to agree and leave this eventful evening behind you, but you saw what Steve was standing near and bit your lip. Should you do it? Could you do it? “Actually, I wanna do one more.” He gave a quick quirk of his head before he followed your eyeline and turned around.
“What? Babe, we don’t have to do that, you have been through enough today and you were great, you don’t have to prove anything.”
“But...you have been wanting to do it, you told me about it one time.” You responded a little shyly as you confessed that you were doing it back of what he told you that one time. “I just...I really want you to be able to do it.”
“You...you remembered?” Steve was kind of shocked that you remembered him mentioning it, he had told that to girls in the past, but none of them really went out of their way to think about it, hell, even to remember it. “Are you su-”
“Steve, yes, I wanna do it with you.” The grin on his face was immaculate and contagious as one grew on your face as he quickly took this well and pulled you towards the line to the Ferris Wheel and dug around in his pockets for another round of tickets.
As it went around, you felt your stomach grow heavy again when you finally saw how high it got and had to calm yourself down without causing another scene. “Come on, babe, looks like ours is up.” He gently tugged on your hand and pulled you into the seat next to him before the handlebar was lowered and locked in front of you. “And here we go!”
The squeak that left your mouth was nothing but surprise and terror as you clung onto the bar for your life, your knuckles turning white with the sheer force you were holding on. “It’s really stupid you know that the only thing holding us back from falling to our death is this small bar and it’s really stupid because was if I was reall-holy shit this is really tall!” You finally removed your hands from the bar and moved to press yourself in Steve.
You could feel him trying to stop himself from giggling as he moved his arm to wrap it around you. “You can laugh you know; I really don’t care. I’m the coward of an almost twenty-year-old who’s scared of a carnival.” A chuckle did come through as the ride kept rotating and you slowly moved closer to the bottom.
“I’m not laughing at you, babe, but the noises you are making are fricking hilarious.” His voice still held the chuckle as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and you responded with another squeak of shock as you started rising again.
Making it to the top again, you were waiting for it to hit its peak and for the relief of lowering the cart to begin, but instead there was a shudder before the ride stopped. “What’s going on, what’s going on, why are we stopped? Oh god we are about to die, fuck, shit, I don’t wanna die.”
“Babe, calm down, someone below us is getting off so they had to stop the ride for a bit. Remember when we had to get on? Same thing probably happened to someone else.” You nodded your head and just stared ahead to the tops of the trees you never thought you would have seen.
“It’s...it’s not too bad up here.” You finally mutter after a few beats of silence and getting your bearings. “I wouldn’t want to stay up here, but it does look nice.” Steve hummed in agreement and pulled you a little closer. “Hey Stevie?”
“Hmm?” He responded looking down at you.
“Thanks, tonight was fun.”
His face broke out into a grin again at your thanks. “Of course, thanks for giving a few of these rides a chance.” Smiling up at him, you sat a little straighter and caught his lips with your own, the two of you humming to the other that you were happy with your evening.
Though it was not as long as Steve would have wanted to stay in that moment with you (the ride started again and you broke away with another shriek), but he wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything else in his life.
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scripttorture · 3 years
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One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:
- destroy her sense of self / agency
- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)
- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors
- immediate obedience to any command
I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.
I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.
The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.
Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.
 Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.
 Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.
 If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.
 The important thing is what you choose to do now.
 I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.
 Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.
 Torture survivors are not broken.
 They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.
 The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).
 The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.
 Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.
 Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.
 And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.
 Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.
 I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.
 A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.
 Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.
 Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.
 I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.
 Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.
 Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.
 The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.
 Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.
 Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.
 A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.
 I probably sound quite angry here.
 I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.
 If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.
 Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?
 Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?
 I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.
 You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.
 I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.
 Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.
 Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.
 Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.
 It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.
 Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.
 You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.
 Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.
 Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.
 Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.
 That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.
 With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.
 It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’
 And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.
 If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.
 So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.
 Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?
 Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.
 Fela’s music started causing riots.
 You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.
 Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.
 I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.
 Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.
 Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.
 Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.
 The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.
 So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.
 Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?
 Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.
 And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.
 Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.
 Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.
 I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.
Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.
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uwuwriting · 3 years
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Wearing his jersey w/ Daichi, Kageyama and Osamu
Request: hi!! can i req the ‘wearing their jersey’ with daichi kags and osamu plss! i loved the one u wrote for kuroo akaashi and ushi. -anonymous
Okay I haven’t written for my Haikyuu babies for quite some time and that sucks. Everyday is Haikyuu day and I simp for a different character every hour of the day lmao. Although my new found obsession with Nanami is taking up most of my time. Oh well guess he’ll have to share my spare time with one of the Haikyuu boys every time. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist II rules
warnings: fluff, I don’t think there are any warnings for this one. 
Sawamura Daichi
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-Captain Daichi thirst is active 24/7 lmao. 
-He is used to you taking his clothes.
-From hoodies, to t-shirts to his sweatpants, it has become a regular occurrence in your relationship. 
-He loves seeing you in his clothes. 
-They are always too big on your body, his hoodies almost reaching your knees and it makes his heart go doki doki. 
-He just wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. 
-He has given you one of his t-shirts to wear to sleep cuz he loves the idea of you having a little part of him with you even if it's just a shirt.
-You two were having a sleepover before one of his major games and of course you were helping him unwind. 
-You helped him make his duffle bag and double check for his knee pads, gave him a massage for his sore muscles after a long week of non stop practices and finally forced him to take a self care evening after he asked you to help him practice with his receives. 
-While putting on his face mask you were going on about something random when you noticed the furrow of his brows. 
- “Everything is gonna be fine baby, you’ll see. You and the boys have practiced really hard for this match and you;ll make it I know you will.” 
-Smiling up at you he gave you a peck on the lips, careful not to smudge your own face mask in the process. 
- “I know or at least I think I do. I just feel off knowing you won’t be there.” 
-Oh that’s right….You weren’t sure you would make it in time to catch the beginning of the match due to a family obligation but you were certain you would get to see the later half of the game. 
-Though Daichi didn’t have to know that yet. 
-Kissing him again you reassured him that the team didn’t need you to be there to wipe the floor with the other team’s ass, that he didn’t need you there. 
-The pout on his lips said otherwise though but he didn’t push it. 
-When the time came for the match to begin, he kept glancing at the stands mainly out of habit but also because he half expected you to make it on time. 
-No such luck though, you were nowhere to be seen. 
- “Oi Daichi focus!!” 
-Suga nearly karate chopped him in the stomach when he didn’t stop looking for you. 
-Everyone could see that their captain was a little out of it but they chose to keep quiet.
-You on the other hand, were sprinting through the streets of Miyagi to get to your boyfriend’s game as fast as possible, his jersey spurring you forward as you pounded down the school’s courtyard. 
-In a flash you were in your regular seat in the very front of the bleachers, chest rising and falling frantically as you tried to catch your breath. 
-You took off your jacket and rushed to the railing, tracing the ball with your eyes as the opposing team spiked it right into your boyfriend’s arms. 
- “GO DAI!!”
-His eyes found you immediately, quickly shooting down to your chest where the number 1 of his dark jersey rested proudly flushing at the sight. 
-The game was over rather quickly after that. 
-Daichi was in top form, his receives being immaculate while his serves were on point. 
-The first thing he did when he walked out of the lockers was to hug you, hug you so close and tight you could barely breath as he thanked you for coming.
- “You r-really thought I w-would miss this???” 
- “........Baby I can’t b-breath.”
Kageyama Tobio 
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-Flustered babyyyy.
-He will never get used to seeing you in his clothes. 
-You have worn his hoodies before and he has had a heart attack every time. 
-It reached a point where you thought that he hated seeing you in them and you stopped asking for his hoodies or jackets even if you were cold. 
-That caused the frown on his face to deepen and a very shy confession that he indeed loved seeing you in his clothes. 
-Ever since that day you always have at least one of his hoodies in your closet. 
-Now your relationship is a secret. 
-Considering who his teammates are, you both agreed that it would be wise to keep your relationship under wraps, neither of you want to go through their reaction in this lifetime at least. 
-Keeping that in mind, you never wore his clothes out in public so you wouldn’t draw unwanted attention to you. 
-You go to all his games of course, being his best friend before becoming his girlfriend does that to a person, plus he had convinced you to become a manager alongside Yachi.
-So even if you wanted to skip a game you couldn’t. 
-Now that you think of it this must have been part of his plan since now he can be near you all the time. 
-You couldn’t bring yourself to be even remotely mad at him, he was just too cute. 
-You were so proud of your boys for making it to nationals that you decided to hype them up a bit. 
-Convincing both Yachi and Kiyoko you stole three jerseys from the team while they were changing before you took your seats in the sidelines. 
-Many would think that you wearing Kageyama’s jersey was a mere coincidence. 
-You chose him because he is your best friend, not because something else was going on. 
-Sugawara and Tsukishima aren’t most people and you soon found yourself in some hot water with those two. 
-Apart from the fact that Kageyama couldn’t look your way without having a stroke, he whipped the floor with the other team, gasps and applause filling the stadium every time he dunked the ball on the other side of the court. 
-It got to the point where the other less observant member of the team started noticing the significant difference in his attitude. 
- “Kageyama why are you playing so aggressively the ball keeps going like WOOSH and BAM without me even hitting it.” 
-Poor boy almost chocked on his water at Hinata’s words and when you went to help him he turned 50 shades of red in a matter of 0.0005 seconds. 
-This whole charade ended with your relationship being exposed after Noya begged you to wear his jersey and Tobio wasn’t having it, three nosebleeds and a whole lot of teasing. 
-He moved to your room that night despite the fact that the third years kept teasing him about being safe and wrapping it before tapping it. 
-Held a small grudge for like five minutes. 
Miya Osamu
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-Love of my life number 20.
-The superior twin and this will make it evident. 
-Atsumu is always being a little shit about your relationship and how you don’t look like a couple cuz you don’t make out in the hallways all the time. 
-Em sir excuse you!
-Anyways, you know to ignore him at this point figuring that he’ll get tired and stop but no such luck; he irritates Osamu to no end resulting in one of them needing bandages at the end of practice. 
-PDA is not something you are both comfortable with and you prefer small reassuring touches throughout the day. 
-This has led to many believing that you two aren’t a couple just like Atsumu says and other people have confessed to you or asked you out WHILE Osamu is with you. 
-It doesn’t bother him much since he trusts you but it still tugs at his insecurities. 
-And because of those insecurities you get a new wardrobe. 
-Literally a whole ass new clothing line made by none other than Osamu Miya himself. 
-What is in this new clothing line you ask? 
-Osamu’s hoodies and shirts in general. 
-Every time he stops by your house he brings a new item of clothing with him, something that he has worn recently and others have seen just to get his message across. 
-You aren’t complaining, you love wearing his clothes, they are always so big and they completely swallow you plus they smell like him. 
-It’s like you have him with you. 
-Now Osamu might not show it often but volleyball stresses him out, like a lot. 
-It means the world to his brother and despite their fights and bickering, he loves seeing him happy and if that means he has to play the sport like his life depends on it so be it. 
-Osamu would do anything for Atsumu. 
-So you can understand the pressure he is under as a spiker. 
-His distress is you basically and you give him a small pep talk right before he enters the court. 
-Imagine his surprise and pure childish glee when he saw you making your way to him wearing his jersey. 
-It reached just above your knee and it made you look so cute he wanted to bottle you up and keep you forever. 
-Atsumu and Suna could be heard in the background teasing the living shit out of Osamu who remained frozen in place, the whole stadium turning into white noise as the only thing in his view, the only thing that mattered in that moment, was you. 
-He noticed your glare as you told his brother off, saw the way you played with the hem of his jersey as you walked near him and the furrow of your brows when he didn’t answer your calls. 
-Wordlessly he enveloped you in a tight hug, picking you off your feet and twirling you around a little bit much to the dismay of his fanbase in the stands. 
- “Hi.” “Hey ‘Samu”
- “Whatcha wearin?”
- “Oh this old thing? I figured you might need the motivation.” 
- *cue kissing assault*
TAG TEAM AY:
Arcana-Fan-at The @-FIC @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @ storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @ wolfkid22 @ Dark-Thoughts-and-Red-Roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @yongboxerrr​ @meena-in-a-nutshell​
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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years
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The Fifteen Minutes After
Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand
Rating: EXTREMELY T
Summary: "It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar."
A/N: "Yes, I recall the fifteen minutes after we met." Since we didn't get to see any of those fifteen minutes I have filled in the blanks. Episode tag for 1.01. Huge shoutout to @bluenet13 who basically deserves a co-writer credit at this point because I literally can’t post without her.
Read it on AO3
Captain Strand’s son was…not a good dancer. Carlos had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the other man attempt to shimmy and follow along with the steps. It was adorable. Incredibly, wonderfully adorable. And no matter how bad his hip shaking was, Carlos still found him incredibly attractive.
Also, he should probably introduce himself so he could stop referring to him as ‘Captain Strand’s Son’. “I’m Carlos, by the way,” he said as they turned to the left and then to the right.
“T.K.,” he said, flashing him a ridiculously cute smile.
T.K.? Well that was different. Carlos would have pegged him as more of a Ryan or a Chris, but T.K…he liked it. He liked him a lot. 
“Does that stand for something?” he asked, kicking out his feet in time with the music.
“Yep.” T.K. gave him another sassy smile that said he would probably have to work to get the answer. 
The dancers turned to face the back wall and Carlos turned with them. When he turned back he found T.K. checking out his ass. His eyes slid up to meet Carlos’ and he didn’t look in the least bit sorry to have been caught. “Like what you see?” Carlos asked, flashing a smile of his own.
Like what you see? Who the hell was he tonight? Carlos was a confident guy, but he wasn’t usually so cocky with people he’d just met. His mother had raised him with manners. All of which had apparently gone out the window the second he got an eyeful of T.K. Strand.
“Not bad,” T.K. said, his eyes full of laughter and…a little bit of desire? Maybe? Was Carlos reading that right? God, he’d been out of the dating game too long, he couldn’t even tell anymore.
“Not bad?” he repeated.
“You heard me,” T.K. said with a smirk. 
Carlos felt himself growing tongue tied. Yet another thing that didn’t typically happen. He was a controlled guy. Confident. Not falling all over himself over a guy he’d known for all of five minutes. What the hell was wrong with him?
“It’s just kind of hard to tell,” T.K. said leaning close to him, “with your jeans on.”
If Carlos had been sipping a drink he would have choked. As it was he missed a step and nearly stumbled into the woman next to him. “Sorry,” he apologized as the song ended and the crowd shifted around him.
By the time he looked up again T.K. had moved back to the bar, but his eyes were still on Carlos, who found himself walking toward him as if pulled by a magnet, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He absolutely had not come here tonight looking for a hookup. He’d just come to hang out with Michelle. He hadn’t even thought about the hot firefighter from the call earlier. And he definitely hadn’t been hoping he would see him again sometime.
He was halfway back to T.K. when his path was blocked by Michelle. “Hey you need a drink?”
“Uh, no, I’m good,” Carlos said, looking past her to where T.K. leaned against the bar top, a smirk all over his face, clearly having clocked the situation. 
Michelle peered at him closely. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”
“What?” Carlos snapped his eyes back to her. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”
His eyes found the bar again, but T.K. had disappeared and Carlos felt something akin to panic as he scanned the room trying to find him. Which was ridiculous. Because they didn’t even know each other. At all. 
“You sure you’re okay? You’re acting strange,” Michelle said skeptically.
“I—yes.” Carlos caught a glimpse of T.K. headed out the front door. “I’ll be right back.”
Michelle called something after him but Carlos was already gone, pushing through the crowd to the front of the Honky Tonk. 
The night air was cool against his burning cheeks as he searched the parking lot for T.K. “Well fancy meeting you out here,” said a voice to his left and Carlos pivoted to find T.K. sitting on top of the low porch railing that ran along the front of the building, half hidden in the shadows.
“Are you leaving?” Carlos asked, trying to keep his tone casual even as desperation filled him. He didn’t want this man to go. For a thousand reasons he couldn’t even explain.
“No, I was waiting for you,” T.K. said, taking a step forward. 
Carlos’ breath left him in a rush and before he could even think he was moving, crashing into T.K., lips seeking, hands fumbling.
It was intense. T.K. tasted like spice and mint and a little bit of smoke. And Carlos wanted more. So, so much more. He was used to being the one in control, but T.K. met and matched his every move, parting his lips, hands sliding under his shirt, bodies bumping up against each other.
Carlos moved to T.K.’s neck and smiled when the other man let out a groan, his fingers fisting in the fabric of Carlos’ shirt. His hips bucked against Carlos’ and Carlos made an appreciative noise of his own. 
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it was almost painful but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. He just wanted more and more and more.
It wasn’t until he felt T.K.’s fingers on his belt buckle that a tiny sliver of reason managed to worm its way through the screaming haze of his libido. He pulled back just a little bit, his breathing so ragged it was like he’d just run a marathon. He felt almost dizzy with want and lust. “Wait, just, hold on,” he rasped.
T.K. made a noise that almost sounded like a whine, but he allowed Carlos to take a half step back. “We can’t—I’m a police officer, I can’t hookup with you out here like this.”
“Are you sure?” T.K. asked, lips finding Carlos’ earlobe and Carlos felt his resolve weaken so much his knees almost gave out.
“I—yeah. I mean your entire crew is inside.” Another thought struck him and his eyes grew wide. “Your dad is inside.”
“Maybe we should get out of here then,” T.K. said, his voice low and full of sex.
Yes, yes, that was a thing you could do, right? They didn’t have to stay here, they could go somewhere else. “My place or yours?” Carlos asked.
“Yours,” T.K. said immediately. He seemed to realize he’d spoken too quickly and looked a little bashful. “I uh, I currently live with my dad.”
Well that was fucking adorable. How could this man be so cute and so sexy at the same time? It didn’t seem possible.
“No shame in that,” Carlos said. “I lived with my parents until I graduated from the police academy.”
How had they gone from pawing at each other to such easy and practical conversation? Carlos felt like his head was spinning. T.K. smiled and adjusted his shirt so he looked slightly less rumpled. “Just uh, just give me a minute?”
“Yeah, sure, of course, take your time,” Carlos said immediately.
T.K. looked him up and down and let out a breath, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t go anywhere.”
He disappeared inside and Carlos took a second to try and unscramble his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and texted Michelle. Heading home. Headache.
Seconds later a text came back. Really? Okay. Feel better.
Of course she wouldn’t be suspicious. Because Carlos never took guys home. Ever. It was a rule. A big rule. Not something that he did. Until tonight. Apparently tonight he did. Oh god, what was he doing?
He was about three seconds away from hopping into the Camaro and driving away as fast and as far as he could when T.K. reappeared, all smiles, his hair still mussed from Carlos’ fingers just minutes before. “You good?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Yeah let’s go.”
If Carlos had been worried about the twenty minute drive home and whether it would be awkward or a mood killer, he didn’t need to be. T.K. was charming and easy to talk to. He kept the conversation flowing so easily that Carlos felt like he’d known him for years rather than minutes.
“So you have any weird roommates I need to know about or anything?” T.K. asked as Carlos turned onto his street.
“No,” Carlos said. “No roommates. I live by myself.”
“Interesting. Are you sure I’m not a serial killer or something? Isn’t it a little dangerous for you to take me home like this?”
Carlos chuckled. “I’m a cop T.K.”
“Oh, so you think you can handle me?”
It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar.
Carlos glanced over and looked him up and down. “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
The butterflies were back as they walked through the front door. He was completely out of his depth and trying hard as hell not to let it show. He tried to remember everything Adriana and Francesca had told him in vivid, explicit detail about their own one night stands, but everything seemed to have left his brain except for T.K.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked as he turned to lock the front door. “Water or—”
Before he could finish, T.K. was on him, lips against his, hands in his hair, hard and hot and intense. And for all his nerves, now that the moment was here, Carlos didn’t hesitate, grabbing T.K.’s ass and pulling his hips into his own. It felt like his whole body was on fire. Appropriate since the man he was currently making out with was a firefighter.
It seemed like T.K.’s hands were touching him everywhere at once, tangling in his hair, gripping his waist, sliding across the planes of his chest and stomach, and Carlos couldn’t get enough of the way his fingers moved so tenderly across his skin. 
Carlos’ own fingers were making quick work of the buttons on T.K.’s shirt. “Is this okay?” he managed to ask.
T.K. nodded, letting his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed, breathless as Carlos pressed a kiss to his chest for each button he undid. He was holding back a little bit, trying to gauge T.K.; what he liked, what he didn’t, although, so far, it seemed like T.K. pretty much liked everything. “My bedroom’s upstairs,” he mumbled against T.K.’s skin. 
“Okay,” T.K. said, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get there, grabbing Carlos’ face and lifting him so their mouths met once more.
His hands moved to Carlos’ belt and this time Carlos didn’t protest as T.K. undid the buckle and then moved onto Carlos’ jeans. He paused briefly, eyes meeting Carlos’. “Yeah?” he asked, searching for consent.
“Yeah,” Carlos replied and T.K. wasted no time undoing the button and the zipper, pushing his jeans down until they hung low on his hips.
Carlos wasn’t sure how they made it up the stairs without dying, both of them half undressed, falling all over each other. When they finally reached his bedroom he felt desire burn down his spine so hot and fast he could hardly stand it. He steered T.K. toward the bed by his hips and gently pushed him down. “Oh so that’s how it is?” T.K. asked with a laugh as Carlos pulled his shirt off.
“Yeah, that’s how it is,” Carlos said as he climbed onto the bed. “Do you think you can handle it?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” T.K. said with a grin.
Time seemed to slip away and before he knew it, it was the early hours of the morning. T.K. was up and pulling on his clothes. “You can stay, you know,” Carlos said, shifting in the bed. “If you want. It’s late.”
“You don’t do this a lot do you?” T.K. asked with a smile.
Carlos barked out a laugh. “Not really.”
Never would be more accurate, but T.K. didn’t need to know that.
“I gotta say I’m surprised. A guy like you,” T.K. let his eyes wander appreciatively over Carlos’ body, “I can’t believe everybody in that bar wasn’t trying to take you home.”
Warmth flooded through him. Was this bliss? It wasn’t love. For sure. You couldn’t fall in love after one heated make-out session and a couple hours of mind-blowingly good sex, right?
“I already called an Uber,” T.K. said. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “This was fun though. We should do it again sometime. Give me your phone, I’ll put in my number.”
Carlos reached for his nightstand but came up empty handed. “I think my phone’s in my pants downstairs.”
T.K. grinned, clearly remembering exactly how those pants had come off. “Do you have a pen?”
Carlos managed to find one and T.K. took it, then reached for Carlos’ hand, carefully writing down his cell number. “Don’t lose it,” he said with a smile.
Carlos would have it tattooed onto his skin if necessary. 
T.K.’s phone buzzed and he looked down. “That’s my ride. No don’t get up,” he said when Carlos began to rise. “I’ll lock the door behind me.”
He leaned over and pressed one more burning kiss to Carlos’ lips. He turned when he got to the doorway, biting his lip and eyeing Carlos critically. “Very nice.”
“What?” Carlos asked in amused confusion, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“Your ass. Now that I’ve seen it, I can say for sure, it’s very nice.”
T.K. grinned at him and then vanished down the stairs. Carlos snorted and shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but whatever it was, he’d liked it. A lot. And he really hoped they would do it again.
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sneezefiction · 4 years
Text
please don’t go
Ushijima x Reader - Scenario
@moonlightaangel‘s event request: “congrats on reaching 600 followers!! 🥰 can i request ‘please don’t go’ with ushijima, if it hasn’t been requested yet! i need some angsty feelings in my life”
a/n: mmmm angsty Ushijima is my aesthetic :,,)) i also messed around with some flashback formatting, so i hope you enjoy!!
warnings: angst, breakups
wc: 1640
---
“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.
“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.
“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.
“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt. 
Why didn’t you understand? Had you not known that his career would come first? Above everything else?
Or had he misspoken at some point, giving you the false assurance that this relationship would work forever? That he could always treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.
“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, knees painfully falling to the cold floor, but your cries fell on deaf ears. 
He remains resistant to change. Without accommodations. Nothing left to give or take.
“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working out for me anymore. I have to leave for now.” Ushijima’s response is icy. 
He meant for those words to somehow be heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place for a relationship. Where time could ebb and flow and someday he would be able to draw you back into his life.
Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.
Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle. Not enough.
Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.
And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.
---
White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.
Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns. Feather filled duvets. Curtains drawn to keep out the early morning light. 
Everything has stayed clean, clear, and Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, have always seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.
You sleepily blink open your eyes, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. Soft pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.
Yes, you should be filled with contentment. You were safe. Physically you were fine, and nothing was on your checklist for today.
In fact, things had appeared fine for months now...
Yet all you notice is who’s missing.
There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.
You don’t awaken to a recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.
That warm smile he shared with you before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.
You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.
Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.
You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.
Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.
However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality. 
In every aspect, you were perfect.
Expect one.
You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.
And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.
But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.
---
“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your face, “... you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.
For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.
“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”
His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.
You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?
“...Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.
His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.
He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.
But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.
You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.
You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.
“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I... I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.
He won’t be back.
---
Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.
It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.
The usual.
But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.
He didn’t go a week… a day...  a minute without thinking of you.
Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.
It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.
He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.
You’d felt used.
He’d never meant to make you feel that way.
But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.
Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.
Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.
He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?
And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.
He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.
And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.
Just one.
But it’s for you.
Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive...
He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.
But you were right.
You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.
He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.
Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,
“Please don’t go.”
---
tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin
(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 
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ahundredtimesover · 3 years
Text
Friday Nights and Take-Out Drabble (3)
It’s not how I wanted to tell you but doesn’t mean I don’t mean it any less. 
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!
Warnings: foul language 
Word count: 1,500 sorry
Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.
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A/N: Fast forward to several months later with these two idiots-turned-lovebirds!
#
“Rock-paper-scissors! Winner decides if they want to choose the movie or the dinner tonight,” Jungkook says, right hand ready, bunny smile flashing through your phone screen.
You roll your eyes as you sit up from your upside-down position on the couch. “What are you, a child? Your game doesn’t even make sense.”
“Yes, your man-child boyfriend. And yes, it does. Now come on!” He urges you.
“Fine, only because you recognize yourself as such.” 
He rolls his eyes this time. 
He was late on the first try, making it not count. You usually go scissors after rock, which Jungkook knows - hence, why you often lose - but he didn’t this time. 
“I win!” You say, surprised. “A bit rusty now, are we?” A smug look on your face. “We’re going with Winter Soldier tonight, babe,” you continue, his hopeful face turning into a disappointed one. 
“But we watched Iron Man 2 the last time, shouldn’t we watch Iron Man 3 tonight?” He tries, towel wiping his sweaty face, their Friday night rehearsal having just ended. Months after the end of the tour, they’re still plenty busy and the month of February isn’t any different than the others. 
Still, you’re happy with your arrangement. Regardless of how late they end on a Friday, Jungkook makes sure to come see you, with take-outs now a staple in your relationship. Until you both think you’re ready to go public, your little home is your little world for now.
“We’re not following any order, Kook. I win so I get to decide the movie. At least you get to choose dinner! I’m not particularly picky today. I just want me some Bucky,” you tease. He gives you a displeased look. 
Something you’ve come to learn is that your jealous and competitive boyfriend will always try to one-up any person who gets your attention, regardless if they’re a fictional character or a real-life individual, regardless of gender too. He thinks he’s being subtle about it, which is the funny part, but Jungkook is anything but subtle. You’d mentioned one time how you liked Evan Rachel Wood’s undercut and he showed up 2 days later with his own undercut, in a bun. Do you like it? He’d asked later that night, lips all pouty. Safe to say it took all of you not to pounce on him the moment you saw him enter the bar. 
“I just don’t like him because he did my man dirty,” he reasons. You respond with a laugh, “yeah, I hear you babe. It totally has nothing to do with me having a crush on him ”
“Baby, don’t tease me tonight, please. I’m tired and I miss you and I want to cuddle you in peace while we watch the definitely-not-best Marvel movie,” he pouts.
“Okay fine, we shall cuddle in peace, then if that’s what you want to do,” you give in, hearing the tiredness in his voice, and then bidding him goodbye. 
If you didn’t miss him, you probably would’ve continued teasing him, but you do and you want nothing more than to have him next to you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve spent time together, after all. 
Four months since you both got your head out of your asses and finally admitted your feelings to each other - and three since you told his agency, which was fortunately supportive - you and Jungkook have found your rhythm. 
He’s still as busy, but nothing that video calls can’t solve, and still falls asleep on you over the phone after a long day at work, but you both always make time. He insists on spoiling you, despite knowing that a Chanel bracelet has got nothing on a whole strawberry shortcake, especially after a long day at work. You spoil him too in your own ways - buying him novelty items that remind you of him, stocking your pantry with his favorites, and of course, through kisses.
You didn’t think you could be this affectionate but you’ve long surprised yourself when it came to Jungkook. It seems as if every time you see him, you just want to shower his pretty little face with all the kisses you can possibly give. He enjoys this, partly for the fact that he likes seeing you be the needy one for a change and partly because, well it’s you and anything you give is more than enough for him. Except for an ‘I love you,’ though; somehow that isn’t part of the rhythm yet.
A little over an hour later, you hear the incessant knocking on your door and you jump from the couch. You open the door and take in how your boyfriend looks enveloped in his oversized black hoodie - hair damp, tired smile, but eyes still sparkling like the night sky. A shower of kisses later, you find yourselves on the floor, take-out food all but unwrapped. 
He surprises you with your own favorites - ribeye steak and truffle pasta cooked by one of their chef friends who runs a restaurant that you definitely can’t afford, which also doesn’t do take-outs, to preserve food quality or something. But Jungkook, you’ve also learned, lives off of making you happy, and this is one of the ways that he, as he says, puts his stardom to “good use.”
You stare at him, eyes wide. “Babe, they gave us plates,” you say, confused and amused at the same time. “Food presentation or something, Chef Choi said,” he shrugs, but unable to help the smile on his face as your eyes scour the presentation on the table.
“We’ve been wanting to eat at his restaurant,” is all you say, still unable to process what he had done, not missing the extras included - cheese and artichoke dip and tomato soup. “These seem basic, are they even on the menu?” 
He laughs. “Too basic to be on their menu, definitely, which is why he was able to whip them up,” he says proudly. “I just wanted to surprise you with something special.”
The twinkle in your eyes and the smile reaching them let him know he succeeded. 
One bite into the steak and you feel like heaven. It has marbled well and tastes so scrumptious and tender, as if you’re having an orgasm in your mouth. It tastes expensive, too. You close your eyes and savor the flavor, juices spilling out with every movement of your mouth against the meat. You’ve never had steak this good, it actually makes you feel emotional.
“Fuck babe, this is so good I love you so much.”
Silence.
You open your eyes to see your boyfriend, mouth half parted, orbs even darker and rounder than you remember.
“Did you just tell me you love me… while eating steak?”
You cower on your side of the table, nervous at how he will take it. The words just slipped out of your mouth before you got to the next bite. It’s not that you don’t mean it; it’s because you do and want to at least tell him in a more romantic way than this. He’d survived practice until 10PM, made arrangements to get you a delectable dinner, and you tell him you love him like this - unfocused and unaware, prompted by food, of all things.
“Is that how much you love steak or how much you love me?” he asks, a smile slowly creeping up his face. “I was thinking maybe you’d say it while cuddling in bed or watching Crazy, Stupid, Love or even like, in the middle of sex or something but this… this is so unmistakbly you that I don’t think I can be more in love with you than I am this moment.” Now it’s his turn to look nervous.
You mirror his expression from earlier, senses suddenly heightened at what he’d just said.
“I…” he starts, unsure what to say next.
“I love you,” you repeat, unable to help the smile gracing your face. “It’s not how I wanted to tell you but doesn’t mean I mean it any less. But I do, for a while now,” you continue, hands playing with each other, teeth biting your lower lip. 
“I love you,” he responds, suddenly calming your nerves. “I feel like I say it in my head too much that I’m scared you might just hear it,” he chuckles, eyes finding yours.
“Well, I’d like to hear it, everyday if possible,” you shyly smile. You becoming such a sap like this is a side-effect of dating Jungkook that you definitely don’t mind.
He easily pulls you by your waist and sandwiches you in between his legs, wrapping them around you and peppering your cheeks with kisses. He hugs you tightly and lays his chin on your shoulder. Nothing is better than this. He’s starting to think this is what he wants to come home to everyday. He lets the thought sink in; that’s a talk for another time.
“Anything for you, Y/N.”    
##
part 4 || completed
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dirtyoatmeall · 3 years
Text
All it takes is one moment (Atsumu x reader)
A/N: uhhh sorry for dropping off the face of the earth!! I have a million WIPs I’ll hopefully be posting here shortly! I was reading a bunch of cheesy hurt/comfort fics last night and decided to make my own hehe, tbh it got me thinking of doing another one but no comfort and it turning into a slow burn with another character :0 Please read the warnings, this is Post-Timeskip, so spoilers for occupations. Everyone is probably like 25ish here? Also I apologize in advance for their accents, I tried in a few spots, I’m still getting used to it. (also @spiritofthescarletwoods I know you wanted to be tagged in the midoriya angst I promised a million years ago, but here’s some tsumu angst for now!)
Genre: Hurt/comfort or Angst with a happy ending
Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader (uhmm pronouns I believe are gn but I do not proof read as we all know)
Word Count: 4.?k
Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationships, insinuation of cheating, slight misogynistic vibes for a moment, crude language, Atsumu is mean :( (Probably OOC Osamu and Atsumu), Post-time skip ((Let me know if I need to add something!)
_
You and Atsumu have been together for about 3 years now, and it was great. The two of you were very much in love, supported each other, and rarely fought, as you tried to be as open and communicate as much as possible. The last relationship you were in was toxic and abusive, it took a long time for you to be yourself again, and Atsumu had supported you along the way, he knew what had happened, and he swore to never make you feel like that again. And he stuck by that, until today.
Even though you rarely fought, when you did, it was resolved quickly, but this time was not the same. It had started off small. You had an important event coming up for work, you would be presenting on your year long research project, having made big findings in your field work. It was a huge deal for you, but when you brought it up at dinner, Atsumu did not have the same opinion.
“What do you mean you can’t make it? Everything I’ve been working on had led up to this, this is a career changing presentation, and you don’t want to go?” Hurt was clearly evident in your voice, as was frustration. Atsumu sighed, he’d had a horrible week, there was a big game coming up with the Adler’s and he needed to be prepared. “Like I said, I have practice that night, You can tell me all about it when you get home. I don’t see why you’re making a big fuss ‘bout it, ‘s just a presentation babe.” You furrowed your eyebrows looking at him incredulously.
“Did you not listen to anything I just said? It’s not just a presentation, this is my career Atsumu. I consistently put my own work aside to support you, why can’t you do the same for me? It’s not like I’m asking you to miss a game, it’s a practice.”  You could tell he was getting frustrated, but so were you, you made it a point to make every single game of his, missing out on work opportunities to come support him, him refusing to come to something so important was hurtful, and made you feel like you were less important than him, but before you could voice your feelings Atsumu spoke.
“This isn’t jus’ any practice. We have a big game comin’ up, it's important I’m there, ‘m the setter. Let's be real here, we both know which of us is the bread-maker in this household. This is basically a little hobby of yours, you can come back to it at any time. I’m a professional athlete hun, there’s only so much time I have before retirement.” He spoke in a condescending manner that baffled you. He’s never spoken to you like that before, is that how he really felt about your work? You scoffed, rising from the dinner table.
“Are you fucking kidding me, do you know condescending and frankly, misogynistic that was?” He sighed and rolled his eyes as he followed you with his plate, dinner half eaten and cold much like yours. “Here you go again” He muttered, though loud enough for you to hear. You dropped your plate in the sink and you looked at him, eyes wide, and furious.
“What did you just say to me? Here I go again? What the fuck does that mean Atsumu?” He set his plate on the counter, looking at you from across the island as he gripped the countertop. “What I mean is that yer always playing the victim, we get it, you last relationship was shitty, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like this all the time, I thought you got over it?”
You balked at him, was he serious right now? “Oh my god really? Are you seriously asking me if I got over an abusive relationship, after everything I’ve told you about it? After everything I had to do to get where I am now? We are supposed to support each other, I didn’t realize it was one sided.” Atsumu sighed, growing more frustrated, he tried to interrupt you, but you kept going, 
“All I wanted was for you to come to one dinner, after the years we’ve been together I haven’t asked you to miss any games or practices for my work, you know my coworkers have asked if I’m single? They didn’t believe me when I told them I was in a relationship, and you know what? I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t believe me either, since they’ve never seen you, and I take all this time off to travel and support you, all of your team know who I am, why is it so hard for you to do the same?”
As you kept going, his anger only grew, he tried interrupting you again, but it was like you weren’t paying attention to him, just spouting off whatever came to your head, and he was tired of it. 
He slammed his hand on the counter, the sound reverberating throughout the apartment. You flinched, hard, but Atsumu didn’t seem to notice. “Can you just shut up for one moment? God, all you do is go on and on nagging on how what I do isn’t enough, I pay the bills here, why isn’t that enough for you? I could care less about what’s going on at your job, I have absolutely no interest in it at all, when will you get that through your fucking skull? I. don’t. care.” By the time he was done his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the counter, and you had tears in your eyes. You sucked in a breath, steeling yourself.
“Ok, I’m going to remove myself from the situation, I’ll be at your brothers, you can come get me when you pull your head out of your ass.” He rolled his eyes as you strode past him, getting your purse from the hook and going to slip on your shoes. “Yeah go ahead, you gonna wet his dick for ‘im too? ‘m sure he’ll love that.” You stiffened for a moment, putting your shoes on before looking at him, tears making your vision blurry.
“Y’know I tell myself that this isn’t like last time, that you’re not him, but at times like this-“ Your voice cracked as a sob bubbled into your throat and you shook your head, turning and heading out the door. Atsumu flinched at your words and the soft click of the door latching, he would’ve preferred to hear it slam.
Your walk to the elevator was blurry but you knew the way by heart after living there for so long. You wiped at your eyes as you pulled out your phone, tapping on the contact before bringing the phone to your ear. It rang once before it picked up, a tired “hello?” coming from the other end. You let out a quiet sob as you loaded the elevator, trying to get the words to come out. Upon hearing you, Osamu spoke again, “(Y/N)? Are you crying? What’s wrong.” You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before speaking, your voice tight. “Hey ‘samu, can, can I come to your place? ‘tsumu and I- we-'' you broke out into another sob, and you could hear Osamu close a door.
“Where are you? I’ll pick you up, I’m just leaving the restaurant I’m close.” After telling him where you were, you stayed on the phone, walking in the direction of the restaurant. Not long you see Osamu’s car pull up, he quickly gets out and looks you over and sighed as he brings you in for a hug. You sob into his jacket for a moment while he rubbed your back gently. He knew about your past as well, and figured it must have been bad for you to leave in tears. He leads you to the car and makes sure you’re strapped in before heading to the drivers side and getting in, double checking your seatbelt before driving towards his apartment.
The drive was short, though to you it felt like it lasted hours. You tried to quiet your sobs, not wanting to bother him. He looked over at you every so often, worry evident in his gaze as he tried to figure out just what his stupid brother did.
After arriving at his apartment, he sat you down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around you and giving you a box of tissues before sitting next to you, gently asking what happened. You try not to cry as you retell the events of the evening, though it got harder and harder as you told him what Atsumu said to you. By the time you were finished you were crying again, and Osamu was furious.
“I-I just don’t understand ‘samu, the things he said, did he really m-mean them? And-and when he slammed his hand on the counter, the look on his face, it, it was like I was back there all over again, like I never left. I-I know he’d never hurt me,” You sobbed out, throat getting tighter as you go on, “But at that moment, all I could think was that he was gonna hit me, and I, I had to leave, and what he said before I left,” You hiccupped and cried into your hands, not able to finish.
Osamu rubbed your back as you cried before getting up to make some tea. While the water was boiling he went into the other room, trying to calm himself down before calling his brother. The line rang three times before it was picked up, a frustrated “what do you want?” coming from the other end. It was enough to dwindle Osamu’s patience into nothing. He tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to distress you further.
“What do I want? Do you know how badly you fucked up? (Y/N) is here crying on my couch right now, do you know what she told me ‘tsumu? She told me she thought you were going to hit her. Are you fucking kidding me? Did you even think before you spoke, because from what she told me, it sounds like you didn’t. How dumb are you, after everything she’s gone through, the first big fight you have you send her running? Over a dinner? Really Atsumu?”
Atsumu groaned on the other line, “Exactly ‘samu, it’s a dinner, I have practice for the game against the Adler’s you know how big that is. She’ll have plenty of dinners for me to go to in the future. I don’t see why she got so upset over it. And she knows I didn’t mean the things I said, I was just frustrated.”
Osamu scoffed into the phone, “Did you even hear what I said, are you hearing yourself? She is the best thing that has happened to you, the least you could do is support her, this is a big deal for her Atsumu, even I know that. Honestly I don’t know why she is still with you after the shit you just pulled, did you hear me? She was scared of you, y’know like that last relationship she had? Where she was sent to the hospital multiple times, she thought she was right back there, that you were just like him. Do you know how bad you have to fuck up for that to happen, after all the counseling she’s done? You know how much trust you just broke? I wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to hear from you again, and I’d agree with her. God I have half a mind to tell Ma what you did, You need to sit and stew on what you just lost. And I mean it, I don’t want to see you here tonight, she needs a safe space right now. I’ll let her stay for as long as she wants, but I’m not gonna stop her if she leaves so you better get your fucking head on straight and get on your knees begging for forgiveness you don’t deserve.”
With that Osamu hung up the phone, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose, was his brother really that stupid? He shook his head and headed out of his room, only to open the door to see you standing there, eyes holding an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Is he coming?” Osamu sighed and led you back to the couch before finishing the tea he forgot about. He placed your cup on the end table next to you and took a seat with his own. “No, I told him to stay at your guy’s tonight. You need a safe space right now to calm down and sort your thoughts. You can stay here as long as you’d like, but I don’t want you to feel trapped, you can leave whenever, if you want to go to your folk’s, hell even our Ma’s place, I’ll drive you there. You just need to focus on you right now ya hear me? And if you don’t ever wanna see my ugly brother again, I’ll help you get a new identity.” You giggled slightly at the last part before you took a sip of your tea, shoulders relaxing. You turned to Osamu and smiled.
“Thank you ‘samu, I really appreciate it. I’m a little more calm right now, I think I’ll go home tomorrow, apologize and get us back on track.” You did a little nod as you said it, but Osamu just furrowed his eyebrows. “Apologize? There is nothing you need to apologize for doll, You were completely justified in your frustration, Atsumu is the one who needs to apologize, not you. Don’t settle just so things will go back to normal, because they won’t.” You sighed sadly, he was right and you knew it. You were falling back to old coping tactics. Your therapist would not be happy with you right now.
“Sorry, you’re right. I’m still gonna go back, hopefully after we’ve both had some sleep we can work it out.” You smiled again, feeling more like yourself. Osamu nodded in agreement and helped you set up in the guest bedroom before turning in. You sighed as you laid in the bed, not used to sleeping by yourself, but the events from the night took its toll, and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
Back in your apartment, Atsumu was having the opposite problem. He laid in your shared bed, staring at the ceiling, did you actually think he was going to hit you, that he meant the things he said? To him, it didn’t seem like a big deal, he was loud when he was angry, and sometimes said things he didn’t mean, which should be obvious, since you knew how much he loved you…right? He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, looking up the museum you worked at. Honestly he wasn’t really paying attention when you told him about the event, he knew it had something to do with your research, which he knew a little about from the nights you’d info dump your findings to him. His eyes widened when he looked at the upcoming events, when he clicked on the date it was scheduled for he winced.
It really was a big deal, curators from all over the country were coming to hear you give a presentation on your recent fieldwork findings, you’d been at this site for the majority, if not all, of your relationship only now having a big discovery others spent their entire lives chasing. There were going to be donors, curators, archaeologists and other anthropologists from all over Japan and other countries as well. You were right, this was a career changer, no, this was a life changing presentation.
Guilt started to seep into his bones as he thought again about what he had said, how he had brushed you off and then got mad at you for voicing your feelings, something that took months for you to be able to do with him. He thought back to when he slammed his hand on the table, the way you flinched, the look in your eyes right before you left. His stomach felt like it dropped out of his body, chest constricting as the guilt flooded him as he kept thinking back to every expression you made, how you were crying when you left, that you were scared of him. He pushed his palms against his eyes as he groaned, how could he be so horrible to you? Osamu was right, about everything. You were the best thing that’s happened to him, and he broke your trust, trust that took so long to build, over missing a practice. He rolled onto his side, pulling one of your pillows against his chest. He inhaled, the scent of your conditioner still lingering, as he tried to think of how he could possibly make it right.
```
The next morning, after a relaxing shower and breakfast, you were ready. Osamu grabbed his keys, ready to drive you back, when there was a knock at the door. You had a feeling on who it was, so you set down your purse and went to sit on the couch, taking a deep breath. After a few moments Osamu came to the doorway, followed by Atsumu, who stood awkwardly for a moment before Osamu spoke to you.
“I need to be at the restaurant, there’s a key on the counter, if you could lock up if you leave that’d be great. Call me if you need anything.” He turned and left, and when you heard the door close you finally met Atsumu’s gaze, smiling slightly in greeting. Neither of you were sure what to say, but after a minute of silence he comes over and sits on the other end of the couch, obviously trying to gauge your reaction to his proximity.
You sighed through your nose, gaze turned to the floor as you fiddled with your hands, trying to sort out your thoughts. You wanted to just apologize and move on, but you knew you had to talk it out, this wasn’t something you could just pretend didn’t happen. You needed to work through this if you wanted this to work. You bit your lip, thoughts running a mile a minute. You were so deep in thought you didn’t realize Atsumu had moved until you felt his hand rest on your forearm. You jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch and when you looked at Atsumu, who had moved to the place next to you and hovered his hand over you before bringing it back to his lap, guilt evident in his features, eyes raw with emotion.
“(Y/N), I don’t even know where to begin, I fucked everything up and I am so sorry. Sorry for not listening, for brushing you and your achievements off, for making you feel lesser and unimportant, for scaring you, please, you have to know, I would never lay a hand on you, I never meant a single thing I said last night, I was frustrated and let the week get to me, which is no excuse for the way I treated you. I broke your trust, and I’ll spend forever and a month trying to earn it back. You are without a doubt the best thing that has happened to me, and the way I treated you after everything that’s happened, it- it makes me sick. I love you so much, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. But I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, I-I just- I need you to know that I love you, and that I never meant it, I’d never mean it.” His voice cracked at the end,  and he wiped his eyes before looking up to meet your gaze. You were crying, biting your lip to keep it in but failing as you took a shuddering breath that turned into a half-sob. His heart broke even more seeing you like this, and he reached out to comfort you before stopping, hand curling back into his chest.
“Can, Can I touch you?” He asked shakily, scared of the answer, shoulders slumping with relief when you nodded and he quickly gathered you into his arms, pulling you into his lap and holding you tight, like if he let you go you’d disappear. You were crying louder now, hands fisted into his sweatshirt. He nuzzled his face into your hair, quietly apologizing over and over, tears starting to fall from his eyes as well, kissing the side of your head.
The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like hours, though in reality it was about 10 minutes. Your sobs had died down, you were just sniffing occasionally, and Atsumu’s eyes had cleared, no longer obstructed by the water wall of tears. He pulled you away from his chest slightly, cupping your cheeks, wiping at the tear tracks staining your face.
“’M sorry, ‘m so sorry. I’ll say it for the rest of my life darlin’, I love you so much and I am so proud of everything you do. I hope that one day you can forgive me, but I understand if you can’t, if you won’t. You mean th’ world t’ me angel, I want nothing more than for you to be happy, for you to feel safe and loved. I promise I will support you better from now on, no matter what. I’ll make good on my promises from all those years ago, I swear.” You nodded at his words, hands coming up to cup his own before one of his moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, stopping right before your lips met, breath mixing as he looked at you for signs of hesitance, of fear.
“Is this okay?” Instead of verbally confirming you closed the short distance, hands gripping his shoulders as your lips moved against his slowly, taking time to enjoy each other. He pulled away after a few moments before kissing your forehead, hugging you tightly once again. “Let’s go home.” You said quietly into his shirt, squeezing his shoulders before standing on shaky legs. He nodded, getting up after you, lacing your fingers together.
Weeks later~~
 You smiled nervously at Atsumu as you rose out of your chair, giving him a quick kiss before heading to the stage. You squinted briefly at the bright lights, exhaling and smoothing out your clothes before smiling at the audience as you introduced yourself. You tried to keep your gaze evenly over the crowd, but your eyes kept finding themselves locked with Atsumu, who grinned brightly and gave a thumbs up whenever you did. Your smile grew, nerves slowly dissipating as you lost yourself in your presentation.
Afterwards you answered a few questions from the crowd, thanking them again before heading back to your table. You shook hands with the host as they walked past to continue to the next topic and thanked your tablemates who congratulated you. You snorted at Tsukishima, who said it was a little boring, like he didn’t have a page of notes from the presentation in front of him.
You turned to your boyfriend, smiling as you laced your fingers together. “Wow babe that was amazing! I don’t know what half those words meant but you did great, I’m so proud of you.” You flushed at his praise, squeezing his hand while you kissed his cheek before turning back to the host, who was announcing the next speaker. You don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t work things out, and frankly you don’t want to think about it, the two of you are slowly building this back to where they were, but this time your relationship is stronger. You’re happier than you’ve ever been, and that’s what matters.
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bave-de-crapaud · 3 years
Text
The Chaperone...
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PART ONE
Artwork by flowsofly
Post Azkaban Sirius Black x Reader Older Sirius Word Count: 1600+
Warning: Eventual Smut
Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+
—————
“Sirius, you know I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are trying to get intel from this woman! For the Order no less.”
Sirius sighed and dropped his face onto his kitchen table. Y/N barely had time to move his coffee mug out of the way before he knocked it over.
“I know, but every time I talk to her she thinks I’m making a move or asking her out.”
Y/N raised her eyebrows in half amusement. “Well, you do flirt, a lot.”
Sirius cocked his head at her and smirked. “That’s just with you, sweetheart.” To Sirius’ annoyance though, Y/N rebuffed this comment.
“Well, have you tried being clearer and stating you are not interested?”
He sat up and looked at Y/N - his derisive expression told her the answer he didn’t need to voice.
“Well, what about appealing to Dumbledore? Surely he won’t keep you in this position…” she trailed off as Sirius scoffed, looking away from Y/N.
“He thinks this is an advantage. Even Moody told me to use ‘every angle.’”
Sirius’s frown concerned Y/N. She’d known him for a few years now - heard of him for longer. He wasn’t the sybarite person that everyone thought he was and she understood his dilemma of having to ‘suck it up’ for the greater good - ending the Death Eater reign.
However, unlike Dumbledore and Moody, Y/N thought that after his stint in Azkaban, and consequent years on the run followed by an enforced house arrest, Sirius had sucked it up enough for their cause.
“Ok, say I do stay and run interference for this…” Y/N waved her hands in the air, struggling for a word to describe the situation.”This… meet.”
“Yes?!” Sirius’ face broke into a hopeful grin which caused Y/N to hold out her palm and halt the hope before it spread.
“Hypothetically speaking, Sirius…. How will that help? Haven’t you already tried this with Remus and Bill?”
Y/N didn’t like the crooked grin that played on Sirius’ face just then, it foretold of danger for her and when he answered she saw where his game was.
“Yes…” Sirius drawled slowly. “But not as my, girlfriend.”
“Oh no! Don’t go there.” Despite her initial reaction of shock, Y/N couldn’t help smiling at his cheeky smirk.
Sirius, pursed his lips and studied her, tapping his boot on the table leg next to him. They sat in silence for a moment, each debating the pros and cons of his request, deflating each second as the realisation grew that though Y/N staying would help Sirius in his conundrum, it would certainly derail his assignment and cause him to lose a key contact.
The thing about Rita was, she didn’t, and had never taken ‘No’ for an answer. It was what made her such an excellent reporter and such an insufferable witch…
-
“Oh Sirius, you are just sooo funny!” Rita’s sickly sweet voice rang out through the room as she placed her hand on his chest and leant into him as if to prove to her colleagues he was her conquest.
Sirius, leant away and smiled mechanically. “All I said was ‘I’m tight on time.’” He knew she was trying to get everyone’s attention. He had been half sure that her intention of inviting him to her workplace for ‘urgent intel’, was in fact a ruse to show him off to her workmates. Now he was certain.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Sirius crossed his arms over his chest, thereby subtly removing her hand from his body.
“Why don’t we talk about this over dinner tonight?” She purred, circling her index finger along his forearm.
The feeling made Sirius’ shiver in disgust and he was certain his balls had just tried to insert themselves back inside his body.
“You called me here to tell me to come to dinner? Jesus, I left work for this - I thought you had some important info?”
Not in the least perturbed, Rita smiled her devious smile at him.
“Oh the Auror office won’t miss you for 5 minutes with me will they?” She attempted to batt her eyes at him in a sycophantic sort of way.
Sirius couldn’t help it, his mouth turned down in disgust and she had noticed. He was weighing up his options: piss her off and lose potential info or acquiesce, and suffer through another obsequious evening. It was perhaps the hardening in her eyes at his obvious distaste to her flirting and the worry of failing the Order that answered for him.
“Fine. See you tonight. Come to my place. 6pm. We’ll eat.”
Rita smiled triumphantly as Sirius turned, leaving the room quickly.
“Oh, I have a friend staying with me at the moment and she’ll be joining us. You’ll like her. See you tonight.”
Though his back was turned, he could picture the shocked displeasured look finding its way onto her features. It was small wins like this that gave him strength, and he smirked to himself as he strode out of the room.
-
“Yikes - she is awful, Sirius.” Y/N had listened as he talked and started to feel sorry for the man. He was, as he had so eloquently pointed out previously, between a rock and a hard place. Could it possibly be that they - the Order - his friends had misjudged this supposed playboy?
As Y/N contemplated this, Sirius sighed and took another sip of his coffee. Y/N studied his face, it was drawn and resigned. Not at all like the playful, gregarious Sirius she was used to.
Wanting to cheer him up, Y/N kept searching in her brain for help, “well, it won’t be all bad will it? You’ll at least have someone with you tonight.”
Sirius looked back at Y/N, a hopeful expression filling out his face. “I will?”
“Yes.” Y/N frowned confused. “You said to Rita that someone was…oh no!”
Finally clicking to the realisation about what he had assumed, Y/N stood up quickly from the table.
“No no no no no… no!”
“Please, Y/N?!” Sirius got to his feet too.
“No! Sirius, how will that look? We’ll get in trouble with the Order and this is important intel, I hope.”
“I’m begging you Y/N.” Sirius implored. “I’ll drop to my knees if you want me to.”
Y/N was temporarily disarmed at the thought of bringing Sirius Black to his knees and he used this momentary lapse in concentration to his advantage.
“Look, she’ll be here any minute and you don’t have to be you.”
“What do you mean? She knows who I am. We work in the same department remember. Unless you have some Polyjuice on hand but I doubt there is a wizard or witch Rita Skeeter won’t recognise. She gets everywhere.”
“No not Polyjuice - she doesn’t know your animagus form!” Sirius was grinning artfully at Y/N who was again temporally shocked by another request.
Sirius pushed forward before Y/N could react to the fact he knew she was an animagus, “I said there was someone joining us tonight - I didn’t say it was human!” Sirius paused, an infinitesimal air of hesitancy about him, “You can pretend to be my pet.”
“YOUR PET?!” Y/N took a swipe at him from across the table which he easily dodged by catching her hand in his.
“You’d make a great pet Y/N and I’ll be sure to treat you right.” He laughed at her snarl and pitiful attempt to hit him again.
Before Y/N could voice her outrage there was a knock at the door.
Both froze.
“Sirius!” Y/N tired to reason with him. “You haven’t even seen my animagus form - how did you even know I was one?”
“Tonks told me.” He smirked again.
Tonks. Y/N growled under her breath already planning what she was going to do the next time she saw that metamorphmagus.
“It can’t be that bad.” Sirius held on to Y/N’s hand still, as he strode around the table, heading towards the door. “T said you were some sort of cat?”
Y/N looked at him for a full 10 seconds, contemplating her options. Another, more impatient knock rang out in the hallway.
“Please Y/N?” Sirius beseeched her.
She looked into the perfect face of Sirius Black, his sharp jawline flecked with stubble, chiseled cheek bones flanked by waves shoulder length black hair. She couldn’t say no to this face and in all honesty she was starting to believe that this might be fun.
“Yes, I’m a cat.”
“Please Y/N. Sirius begged again. “ I’ll owe you big time.”
“Fine, but be careful what you wish for.” A reckless freedom had swept over Y/N and perhaps tonight would prove to be an excellent moment to test the waters with Sirius - see just how sincere he was and how far he was willing to go to owe her one.
“Great!” Sirius stood close to Y/N and wrapped her in a furious bear hug. “I’ll grab the door and you just.. um change. Don’t leave my side ok?”
“Ok.”
“Just do cat things: get in the way, sit on my lap etcetera.”
“Your lap?!” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.
To his credit he blushed. “Strictly to help me create a barrier with Rita and all that.”
Y/N had not seen Sirius blush before. “Ok - I’ll do cat things and keep her away from you.”
Sirius squeezed her once again before turning and walking out the room as the forth and final knock sounded loudly on the front door.
A small smile crept onto Y/N’s lips as she thought of Sirius asking her to sit on his lap. Whatever happened tonight, that request alone was going to be worth the potential telling off they could get from the Order if anyone found out what they were doing tonight. 
This was going to be fun.
---
Tag List: @with1love1anu  @evyiione  @borbole-teias  @riddikuluslypotter  @sirius-lysad  @emmamass24  @mylovelykelsifer  @sly-vixen-up2nogood  @ashkuuuu  @songforhema  @wangmangagavroche  @legalyred  @qwertyokok  @criminalyetminimal  @hannahhobnob  @mrsrosiebarnes  @ofherosandvillians-blog  @doitforthevine67  @maraudersprincess  @socialfake  @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littledeadgirlwalking @themyththelegendthenerd @fific7​
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fusrodie · 3 years
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re: hate in the tags
hey, so I'm going to make this a separate post instead of reblogging because I'd like to give a quick recap of my point of view because no, I don't think any of the people who have been messaging me or vaguing about me on the Ethan Winters tag actually get what I said and I'd like to set the record straight. I think one of the people who was interacting with me before blocked me because I can’t tag them, so this is a “to whom it may concern” message with a hint of direct.
you're right, you didn't and you don't have to respond to my posts. you are, however, free to do so, because the entire reason this whole thing came to be was because I mentioned I enjoy discussing characters and I'm particularly engrossed in RE8 right now so that's what I'm going to post about. for all my posts on the game, people are free to reblog, add things, reply, disagree on the tags - I don't mind. I actually enjoy it because I've had some really enriching conversations.
someone disagreed with my take on Ethan and I responded, at length might I add. we were running around in circles and agreed to disagree. cue more than one person vaguing on the tag about "if you don't like the character don't come hate it on the tags :/", or my favorite, veiled dig at my personal character for putting the hero and villains in perspective, which just tells me you've absolutely missed the point. you then replied late, and I was not about to retype that entire essay of a conversation. I even tagged the thing for convenience.
there is a huge difference between hating A character and hating ON a character, and I don't need to tell any of you that. I hate Ethan because he's a dislikeable protagonist to me, and I put him on the same level as the other characters in the game because, again, to me, his actions are questionable and his morals aren't any better because he's using quite literally the same justifications as someone such as Alcina or Miranda are in defending and trying to get his daughter back. you are free to disagree with me on this.
I love the game and the narrative precisely because I don't like Ethan, because to me in his search for Rose he managed to debase himself by mocking others, delegating them to a less than human position, and being fed up with the situation that he refused to see nuance. that’s on him, Ethan, as a character. and I like that specially because he is generic whyte boi protag and he’s transcending that role by being an ass in Village.
tl;dr: the tragedy, and thus the beauty of Ethan’s is that he was always the same as the monsters he was fighting against, he just didn’t see it. you are, again, free to disagree with me.
I did not: tell anybody their opinions or feelings on his character are invalid; tell anyone to change or stop producing their content because I don’t like him; say that your personal character is questionable because you prefer Ethan to the other characters. in fact, given some of the shit I’ve read I would say I was quite civil.
y’all need to understand that not every character needs to be a good person, not every character wants to be a good person, and that doesn’t make them worse as a character. media isn’t black and white because life isn’t either. we all suck, none of us will ever reach sainthood, and the stories we engage with and enjoy reflect that. exploring the dark corners of a character, writing about it, drawing it, relating to it does not make you the same as them, nor does it mean that you agree with them.
we tend to hate villains because, deep down, we fear their fate befalling us because we relate to them. and we also tend to love villains for the same reason. Miranda is scary because her initial reasoning is very human - she wants her daughter back. over time it does away with her humanity and all she has is the distant goal she will stop at nothing to achieve. if I were a young mother who lost her daughter to a disease only to find a possible cure even after death I would most certainly lean into it. who’s to say what Ethan would have done if he couldn’t get Rose back? to what lengths would he go?
like I mentioned before, it’s nuance. it’s connecting to a story on a different level, and you’re free to disagree with me and free to enjoy your content disconsidering my opinions completely. I’m not telling you how to have fun in fandom.
what I disagree with is this notion that I am “hating on Ethan” and bringing criticism to his tag because I’ve taken a look at him and had some Opinions(tm). I have as much a right to post in it as everyone else - tags are not your safe space, they are an organization tool on a microblogging platform. your blog is your safe space, your carefully curated temple. plus, I’m not even actually doing what I’ve been accused of doing, as I tried to make clear on this post and all others. I’ve gone as far as using a specific tag so that people wouldn’t have to interact with my posts if they didn’t want to.
that people are foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of the possibility of their favorite character not being perfect is really not on me. seeing something that strays from the rest in a tag is not hate, and disagreeing with it isn’t hate either. vaguing about people, attacking their personal character, sending harassing anonymous messages - that’s hating on someone. get your heads out of your asses and enjoy your damn content in peace, and I will do the same. block me if you’d rather not see my content. keep scrolling if you come across it on the tag and you don’t like it. it really is that simple!
if you’ve made it this far: get in loser we’re going to have fun discussing characters and calling them shits when necessary  (◕ᴗ◕✿)
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